


Like catnip

by thursdayknight



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayknight/pseuds/thursdayknight
Summary: There's something about the way Billy smells that drives Steve wild.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 20
Kudos: 151
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love, Stranger Things ace fic collection, harringrove for Australia





	Like catnip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Demi_don](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demi_don/gifts).



> For demi-don on tumblr for HFA and for day 2 of Harringrove week of love - mutual pining. I hope you like this fic, Demi! It was so much fun to write!

Cheap beer, cigarette smoke and sweat - if Steve had to pick apart and identify what main scents make up the way Billy smells, that would be it, those three things above all else. They don't sound like pleasant smells and they shouldn't be; it shouldn't be appealing. With scents like that he should be comparing the way Billy smells to the smell of a dive bar and not a nice one, either. No, this would be, should be, the sort of dive bar with sticky floors and dark walls and no hint of a theme anywhere in sight. 

It should be. 

But it isn't.

The way Billy smells is like catnip, driving Steve to distraction any time he so much as gets a whiff of it. 

It's awful. 

He can't think.

He can't study. 

He hasn't been able to write his paper even though he's been trying for the past four hours. 

Not that he's ever been good at writing papers anyway, but the room seems to be drenched in the scent of Billy more than it normally is and Steve can't take it.

He looks across the room at Billy's unmade bed and wonders when the last time Billy washed his sheets was. Probably never, considering Steve can't remember ever seeing Billy struggling with putting clean sheets on his bed and they've been roommates for almost five months now. And again, that should be disgusting but instead, something about it makes Steve's mouth water, makes him want to crawl into Billy's bed and roll around in it, to drown in the scent of Billy and his cheap cologne. 

Billy's not even going to be back for over an hour, so Steve  _ could _ do it. He could do it and he could get away with it. 

He  _ could. _

But. 

But if he did there's the chance Billy  _ might _ come home early and there's the chance Billy  _ might _ catch him and there's the chance Billy  _ might _ try and do something about it. 

They live together in a very small room and Steve's spent enough nights out on the couches in the common area to know about the sorts of things that Billy gets up to.

And Steve knows himself well enough to know he doesn't like those sorts of things. Not really. 

Like sex is fine. He's tried it a handful of times both in high school and in college, both with boys and with girls and every time it was just like, well… this is  _ fine _ but could we go back to the kissing? And the touching? Because that was actually  _ fun. _

Sex is just sort of… boring for him and it would probably be easier for other people to understand if he had a reason for that, if he had some trauma or something he could point to and say, "Yep! That's why I am the way I am!" but he doesn't. Sex isn't traumatic. It isn't scary. It doesn't  _ hurt. _

It just isn't any  _ fun. _ And at first he thought that maybe the problem was girls, that maybe he was gay, but that's not it, either. He likes girls. He likes boys. 

It's just that he likes making out, likes touching and that's it. 

And, apparently, he has a thing for the way Billy smells. 

He's pretty sure Robin would call it a kink. 

Not that he cares. 

Not that he can do anything about it, anyway.

Unless…

Maybe…

He picks up his laptop and stares at Billy's bed for long enough that the heat from the bottom of it makes his hands start to sweat. It's practically taunting him, Billy's bed; the dark navy sheets and the thick, cozy, ocean blue comforter are all but screaming, "Sit on me!" 

So he does. 

But he just sits. And types out more nonsense, padding out the word count on his terrible essay for his terrible sociology class with the terrible professor with the terrible droning voice and the blonde TA who seems like she's more invested in what color nail polish she's going to pick out next rather than in helping anyone.

He doesn't rub his head on Billy's pillow. 

He doesn't  _ moan. _

He's an adult. Or he's close enough to being an adult, anyway. He's not a child, at least. He's not a  _ weirdo. _

So he sits on Billy's bed and he writes his crappy essay. 

And Steve ignores the way Billy's eyebrows climb up his forehead when he gets home and sees Steve sitting on his bed. 

Steve's done it before. They sit on each other's beds, they share each other's clothes and take up space in each other's lives like it's as natural as anything, like they've always done it, like it's always been this way. And it's odd, maybe, the way that happened. The way, after less than a week of being roommates, it was like a light switch flipped. They didn't talk about it and it wasn't any one thing in particular but it was like… it felt like in a matter of days, maybe even a matter of minutes, after getting to college that all their high school bullshit didn't matter anymore. 

After leaving the close (and closed-minded) confines of Hawkins, none of what they'd been trying to be had mattered anymore. They could just be themselves and it turned out that being themselves happened to mean they were really good at being roommates and even better at being friends.

Which is why Steve also ignores it when Billy sits down next to him. Which is why he also ignores the way Billy's leg brushes up against his own, ignores the way Billy smells and the way his curls fall from his ponytail, the way Billy's forehead is damp with sweat and the way those loose curls stick to it.

Billy leans in and looks at Steve's laptop screen and Steve actively struggles to keep ignoring him but ignoring Billy is almost impossible and the game he's trapped himself into playing is one he's almost certainly doomed to lose. 

Billy's warm, solid weight pressing up against him is even more distracting than the way he smells and then to make it all worse, Billy lays his head on Steve's shoulder and heaves out a breath that tickles at Steve's neck but still, somehow, Steve keeps typing. He thinks, no, he knows, he deserves some kind of freaking award at this point for his near superhuman levels of control.

Maybe he's not doomed to lose. 

Maybe there's a way to win this game (and to keep their friendship intact) after all.

Billy huffs out another big breath and he runs a hand up to the back of Steve's neck, his fingers tangling in Steve's hair. 

_ Or, _ Steve thinks as he stops typing.  _ Maybe not. _

He takes a deep breath and closes his laptop screen then disentangles himself from Billy and crosses the room to sit on his own bed. It's barely two seconds before Billy is following him, pressing in close again, driving Steve to the edge and then shoving him over as he says, "Come on, you have to know," his voice all low and deep like it gets when he really wants something. 

And Steve  _ doesn't _ know. He doesn't know  _ anything _ right now. In fact, he's pretty sure that if asked, right now, right in this moment, he wouldn't be able to repeat his own name. 

Billy's hand creeps up the back of Steve's neck again and every muscle in Steve's body goes tense and it's something Billy can clearly feel because the next words out of Billy's mouth are: "If you don't-" and Steve doesn't know what it is he's supposed to  _ not, _ what it is he's supposed to  _ do, _ but something inside of him cracks and leaves splinters with the sharp way Billy's words break off at the ends.

"If you don't…" Billy's hand slides down from Steve's neck, suddenly leaving him feeling unmoored, not unlike like a boat drifting in the ocean without anyone to steer. "If you don't…" Billy says again, this time inching away from Steve. 

Moments pass as Steve's brain spins hopelessly in circles. If he doesn't  _ what? _

Billy huffs. "Damnit Steve, say something! I'm drowning here!" 

Steve reacts on pure instinct, snorting harshly and saying, "Yeah, you and me both," because yeah, he's pretty sure this is what drowning must feel like. That and a thousand other terrible things because this moment  _ is _ a thousand terrible things all neatly wrapped up into one.

"So you don't, then?" Billy says and he sounds… wrecked. Just completely wrecked. Like, to continue the train of thought from earlier, if Steve is a boat lost at sea with no captain, Billy is a boat that's capsized and sinking. 

"Don't what?" 

"Like me." 

That's it. Two words is all it takes to completely flip Steve over.

_ "What?" _ Steve's voice cracks and crumbles over the single word like it's more than that. It isn't pretty. 

"You don't like me," Billy says it like it's definitive, like it's a fact. 

"You…" Steve's brain stops spinning, instead deciding to freeze up entirely. All he can come up with is, "You have a lot of sex." 

This time it's Billy saying, "What?" but he says it like he's pulling his hand back after accidentally touching a hot stove, like he's been burned. 

"Well, you know," Steve says, his cheeks heating up to roughly one million degrees. "If you're wanting to have sex with me, that's not something I do." 

"Okay, first," Billy says, everything in him from his facial expression to his tone to his posture suddenly bristling with coarse irritation, "I haven't had sex with anyone in two months. Second, I've been throwing myself at you for weeks after pining over you for years and third, some asexuals have sex, Steve. I do. I get lots of judgement for that in lots of places but I never thought I'd be getting it from you."

"You're - are you telling me - that you -" Steve's voice gives up as his throat dries out. 

Billy huffs again and his nostrils flare. "Are you telling me I need to explain how being ace works to you? Some asexuals have sex, it doesn't make them less ace. It just means that sex isn't a  _ need _ for them, isn't a driving force. It isn't for me. It isn't something I need or something I look for but sometimes, if the opportunity presents itself, I'll take it because sometimes sex can be kinda fun. Only I haven't taken up any offers lately. Not for two months."

Where Steve's brain has frozen solid his heart kicks into overdrive. Two months. Billy's been…

Throwing himself? At him? For two months? 

"I repeat, what?" Steve's voice comes out sounding ridiculously pitchy and not at all like his usual self. He's lost absolutely all of his cool.

"Look," Billy snarls, charging past irritated and straight into infuriated. "I'm into you. I don't know what else you need from me to get it. Do you want me to do this sixth grade style? Do you want me to leave you a note on your bed saying 'Do you like me? Check Yes or No?" And he sounds fully pissed off but… 

But…

But when Steve looks at him he's got this look on his face that says,  _ "because I will." _ And that's when Steve finally gets it. 

Billy really  _ would _ do anything to make him get it. He'd be as persistent as necessary for as long as necessary for Steve to get it and that… it… It does something to Steve. It gets him feeling all hot and tingly all over in a way that has his long frozen brain just giving up entirely and his body taking over all control. 

He needs to kiss Billy.

He's never needed anything more.

"Well?" Billy snaps. He's halfway through some big, expressive hand gesture when Steve tackles him to the bed, kissing him with enough passion and enough force to make sure  _ Billy _ gets it. 

Because while it might have taken him an embarrassingly long time to catch on, now that he has? Now that they're on the same page? Steve fully intends to scribble big, fat, messy, stupid pink, red and purple hearts all over it.

He wants Billy to  _ know. _ He wants Billy to  _ get it, _ even if he can't properly put it into words yet, that he's been pining just as long. He's been pining since day one, too.

When they finally break apart, Billy is smiling. "Took you long enough," he says. 

"Oh, shut up." Steve doesn't give him long enough to reply before he's kissing him again.

Kissing is going to be a thing that they do a lot from here on out. Steve's going to make sure of it and from the way Billy is moaning enthusiastically under him, he doesn't think Billy's going to mind. 


End file.
